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THIS ARE THE BILLY JOEL RULES

1.IF I WERE MORE NONDESCRIPT I WOULD PUNCTURE MY FORWARD VENTRICLE WITH A BINOCULAR SPONGE

2.HAMYULE IS A NICKNAME AND NICKNAMES ARE FOR ENEMIES AND HAMYULE IS NO LEFT TURN

3.IS OLIVER PLASTIC OR ARE YOU JUST HAPPY TO RHINO ME THE DANCEMONGER

4.DIFFICULTY IS FANATACISM SIDEWAYS BINDER

5.I THINK FALSITY UPBRINGS ME MORE TRISTE THAN TRIFE TOAST

6.5 FRATRICIDE MYOPICALLY YOU GINGIVITIS

6.GRAMMATICALITY IS NEUVO APPROPRIATIONATISM

1.IF SIDEWAYS NONDESCRIPT I WOULD PUNCTURE MY FORWARD A SPONGE

2.I HAMYULE IS A RHINO VENTRICLE ARE FOR GRAMMATICALITY IS

3.FRATRICIDE WERE MORE AND NICKNAMES PLASTIC OR ARE TO ME THE

4.DIFFICULTY TOAST IS DANCEMONGER YOU JUST HAPPY FANATACISM BINOCULAR

5.I THINK FALSITY NICKNAME ENEMIES AND HAMYULE ME MORE TRISTE THAN BINDER TRIFE

6.5 NO LEFT TURN MYOPICALLY UPBRINGS WITH APPROPRIATIONATISM

6.IS OLIVER IS NEUVO YOU GINGIVITIS

Chapter 9:

Aesthtics is the best way for an enlightened individual to expose the tricks we play on each other, not only alone, but also in several everyday spots: the office, the mendicant fair, and regarding spencer, who has many troublesome quandries, the least of which being shelter, of which there are ample amounts in the bountiful sea salt finely rubbed against the broken glass polishes it but in bed is tremendously disappointing much like meatloaf, the dish, when he croons with malice, a wonderful movie and a womanhood friend of the well teated manbroth and boiled cow bacon and eggs with runny hashbrowns underneath the skillet of +2 anger sports similar to highbrow malting but also not unlike the swollen ankle brought on by an 11 hour plane fall.

Join the army, wont you?

When I close my eyes at night, I fear no man, except the ones with hatchets and a fierce intent on killing me, rather, I am quite afraid of monsters. Not under my bed, largely because I sleep standing up, but the monsters of misgiving and clemency, beastly snarls punctuate the few minutes between now and when the wall of sound is reversed. Quite potent. Quite. Potent. How appropoe, if I only new waves then my response would be quite poignant, poignant? Poignant and potent.

For you, I have written a romance novel, here is an excerpt:

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Xanspan the hunter was quite taken with the sight he was seeing, with one fell swoop he removed his sweaty loincloth and revealed his pudding-pelter. As Guippy lay back, chest heaving, they fell into a deafning silence, eyes locked in stolid anticipation.

"Welcome to ronaldland" she screamed seductivly.

Xanspan made his approach, never once moving his eyes from her pendulous mammaries. His excitement was noticeable as his throbbing fuckwand swelled, which was answered with a rousing gush of mucus from Guippys bearded stinkclam. As she lay amongst the shrubs and badgers, Xanspan stood like a petrified monkey, eerily pensive, yet unconcocted.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I hope you enjoy it as much as I dont really have much further to go on my acid belly dancing legacy of terror which is what separates me from the whales, not to mention my throat and thumpin systemic logic as opposed to boolean but which circuit do you prefer, regular or pumpkin?

Im not really funky, just filthy, but my mind is dirtier than my toe lint, toe lint, toe lint. Nothing rhymes with purple, except (anachronistically) proantidisestablishmentarianisticpurple, and even then you have to say it with a french accent on the 3 anterior syllables. Excuse me. I said EXCUSE ME already, what more do you want, reparations for my forced menudo. I dont usually fill up on bread, just when I steal a loaf of it to feed my starving goldfish, who only eats loaves of bread, personally, i prefer syrup.

In jail, my cellmates name was Whacko, for some reason gangsters are really into clowns, i guess thats cuz they both wear adidas and drive really tiny cars. He wouldnt tell me much more, but maybe thats cuz I wasnt listening, just admiring his adidas and wishing I was in a tiny car. Waiter, check please. Waiter, theres a fly in my soup. Waiter, more oreos. Waiter, I have no more patience. WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN ITS FOLGERS CRYSTALS? I ORDERED THE BISQUE!

The battle hymn of the republicans.

Do you remember spencer? I mentioned him earlier. Interesting fellow, but a terrible comedian, mostly referential observational humor over a heavy mix tape of bad company. But this isnt about spencer, is it? Nonononononono, it couldnt be, because spencer was at home when the crime happened. And despite the rumors, he doesnt like sardines that much, only the oil in it. An incidental side note, apparently old people find modern society offensive, but when they were young, their old people had to piss in frying pans because they hadnt invented margerine. Crazy world, huh?

7.NO RUNNING NEAR THE POOL

please abide by this rules at all time.


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